


Enchained

by livwrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Prison, Serial Killer, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:21:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livwrites/pseuds/livwrites
Summary: They put her in the coldest cell possible.





	

The cell was cold, dreary, and covered in a layer of dust. You couldn't see the dust, though - it was too dark for that. All you knew was that it was cold and that you couldn't really see a thing.

That was intentional on the part of the guards; they wanted the occupant of the cell to be as helpless as possible. She was a massive threat, after all; you don't coddle someone who needs all their fingers and toes to count the people they've killed - and then some.

Currently, she was sitting in the corner, examining the manacles on her wrists. They were totally unnecessary, as far as she was concerned. Even without the manacles she wouldn't have tried to escape. She didn't have the will for it. The look her uncle had given her when she'd been captured had been enough to break her. The disappointment, sadness, and a little bit of revulsion had ripped into her core.

She knew that she could have done something better with herself. She'd always been the smart one. Oh, you've inherited your mother's brains, you're going to be smart like her, she'd been told all her life. That hadn't happened. She'd struggled through school, had to scrape and push for everything E, every O, while everyone else seemed to soar through on pure talent alone.

Her brains had been reserved for trouble-making. And for him, of course. They'd met in first year and been friends since. Of course, she thought grimly, idly playing with the chain connecting the manacles, it just so happened that they fell in love with each other at a time when enemies his family had made over the years were rising up to exact their vengeance.

Nobody said that mob justice was right. It wasn't. Vigilante justice wasn't acceptable either, but when a mob has robbed you of what's dearest to you, you can't idly stand by and grieve. Not when you're Rose Weasley.

They all died long deaths; long, drawn-out, and horrible. She would have enjoyed their pain if she hadn't been too sad over him. He hadn't even been involved in any of the things that had caused him to die.

How long had she been in Azkaban? She had no idea. None of her family had come to visit her after her conviction. Her parents had sent her a letter explaining that they were cutting off contact. None of her aunts, uncles, or cousins had owled. In a way, the knowledge that they all hated her for what she had done was crueler than the isolation. Isolation itself wasn't fun. The only human contact she had was with her jailer, a cruel man who seemed to hate her as much as everything else here.

She had lost too much will to care about him, or about anything, for that matter.


End file.
